Liar, Liar

Brunch

As h/n rounded the circular driveway, you tried not to gawk at the "house." It was a mansion, loud and proud, it's presence looming over you as it reminded  you of your true status in life.

A fountain stood in the middle of the circle drive way, stonework so intricate it looked like it belonged in a museum. You took a deep breath as you unbuckled your belt.

H/N looked over at you, sensing your nervous energy. "You okay?"

You nodded, in fear that the lump in your throat would end up in your lap, spoiling your pretty dress. He reached over and clutched your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as if to remind you that he'll be there the entire time.

You stepped out and waited for h/n to come next to you before you climbed up the stairs and watched as he lifted the knocker that looked like it weighed a ton.

After a few seconds of waiting, the large oak door creaked open and there stood an older lady, smiling at you like you were the sun.

"It is so nice to meet you!" She said as she reached for your hands and pulled you inside the house. You took the chance to quickly scan the entry way, eyes feasting on the stained glass windows that played with the light.

"This one has told me all about you."

You laughed, "all good things I hope."

She waved you away, "only the best."

"Please check on the kitchen," his mother said as she descended from the dramatic staircase to your right.

The older woman rolled her eyes and dropped your hands, "yes ma'am."

"Y/N, I am so glad you were able to make it. My son said you were feeling ill?"

Confused, you shook your head. "I feel—" before you could fully answer, you felt a hand at your waist.

"She's feeling better, Mother," he answered for you. What was that all about? Did he give your mother an excuse just in case you said you wouldn't make it? You felt touched that he thought of you but also irritated because he didn't tell you beforehand.

You we're quickly ushered into the dining room to a spread of foods that looked like they belonged in a cafe. It was a round table so you took a seat that put you across your fiancé but next to his mother.

Brunch was going well but as you ate, your thoughts kept going to what happened. His fingers. His sinful fingers that brought you to the highest of pleasures innocently wrapped around his fork as he ate his omelette, not a care in the world.

Stop thinking about his fingers at the table, y/n.
Have some class. His mother is right there.

You allowed yourself the luxury of just one last look but almost jumped in your seat when his eyes met yours, knowing settled in his gaze as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. The corner of his lips lifted into a sly smile as he ate his food. That asshole. Were you the only one that was suffering or was he much better at hiding it?

Your eyes narrowed into a glare and you reached for your glass, taking a sip of much needed water. Ever since he touched you, you've become insatiable. All you wanted was for him to do it again, for him to do more.  The difference between you now and you before was polarizing, barely recognizing yourself.

All of this felt like a huge pinch me moment. At first, all you saw was opportunity, a chance to make some quick money and then go your separate ways, no hard feelings. Then, it bloomed into something more. Irritation became friendship. Friendship turned into longing. And longing turned into
whatever this was. Love? Was it too soon?

Some part of you was waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under you, a camera crew jumping out from the corners yelling "gotcha!" 

All too soon, brunch was over and refreshments were placed in front of you - a cup of tea and a slice of coffee cake. You ate the cake with gusto, enjoying the sweet taste partnered with the bitter taste of the tea.

As you took your final bite, the doorbell rang. You looked around in confusion, not aware that someone else would be joining you. Your fiancé shrugged his shoulders when you gave him a 'what the hell' look. His mother got up and gracefully walked to the door and then came back with a man in her tow.

And oh my gosh, was this man fine. Movie star looks paired with a suit that looked like it cost more than your annual salary, it was a miracle you didn't melt into a puddle.

"What are you doing here?" H/N said, interrupting your swoon worthy thought. "Oh, this is my cousin."

Cousin? What was in the water that every damn member of this family was hot as fuck?

"Well, I'm here to meet the woman who was able to tame the wild beast," his accent did strange things to your belly. He turned his gaze on you and it was like you lost your ability to move.

He stepped closer and took your hand in his, then raised it to his mouth for a kiss. "I apologize I wasn't at the ball, I was out of the country. It's a pleasure to meet you."

You gulped. "I think I chose the wrong one."

"What?" His mother asked, clearly confused.

Oh shit. Did you say that out loud? Fuck. "I meant dessert." You pointed at your plate.

"Well darling, not to worry, there's different kinds in the kitchen."

You nodded as you got up, ignoring the smirk on his face as you passed by his cousin. Why did it have to be that thought that you said out loud? You entered the kitchen and was instantly blown away by how much it looked like it belonged in a magazine. Cream coloured appliances, a giant marble island, and arches. People really lived like this? Clearly you weren't doing this life thing right.

You shook your head and walked towards the counter that held an array of desserts and settled on some macarons. Just as you picked a few to place on your plate, you felt sudden heat behind you.

"You chose the wrong one?" The unmistakable voice of your fiancé whispered. "I'm sure you weren't talking about dessert."

You swallowed. "Yes I was."

He started kissing your neck and you held onto the counter for support. "You sure about that?" He moved to your shoulder, pushing the strap of your dress down and placed kisses on your bare shoulder before moving back to your neck.

"Hey!" you protested weakly. "We can't."

He didn't respond, just slightly moaned and the pressure at your neck increased. You clutched your thighs tight at the sensation. You had to stop him but you couldn't find yourself to utter the words. He finally pulled away, fixed your strap, and with a look that was filled with pure satisfaction, left the kitchen without a word.

That asshole. He drove you insane. What's the point of starting something like that when he couldn't even finish it.

You were about to leave when his cousin walked in and his eyes zeroed in on your neck and he laughed. "That's so like him."

"What?"

"Nothing at all," he grabbed a espresso cup and served himself then left. You set the plate down and then turned to the small mirror that hung right by the door, curious as to why he glanced at your neck before laughing.

You gasped. That asshole gave you a hickey that you couldn't cover.